


Midnight Conversations

by SunlightOnTheWater



Series: Sons of God and Daughters of Man [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Nephilim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1270879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/SunlightOnTheWater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby Singer was smarter than Michael had suspected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Conversations

Bobby Singer was a gruff older man who lived in a secluded salvage yard not far from the bustling city of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He ran a base, of sorts, for Hunters in the area and he was far smarter than Michael had anticipated. Dean was normal. Dean wasn't able to feel when there were angels around. Nine year old Sam, however, always seemed to be glancing exactly where the archangel was. The grace in him had been getting stronger since his last birthday and that meant he knew exactly where the archangel was at all times. It seemed the be disorienting for the boy, his head always trying to turn towards where Michael was standing. John had been oblivious but the archangel caught Bobby trying to figure out where the younger boy was staring. It made the archangel uneasy.

He heard a noise down below the bedroom the man had settled his boys in and bristled. Dean, whose grace was slowly come alive on its own, flared and the boy shifted uncomfortably. Michael reached out a tendril of his grace to soothe the boy and stood, carefully making his way across the creaking floor, out the door, and down the stairs. The kitchen was below, a single light bulb with a grungy shade over it spread a small circle of yellow light over the plastic kitchen table. Bobby Singer set on an ancient wooden chair closest to the back door, shotgun across his lap. 

Michael made himself visible and stepped into the room. The man glanced up at him from under the brim of his ratty baseball cap. "So you're the one the kid keeps looking at," he said at last.

"Yes," Michael admitted.

"Who are you?" Bobby asked and then raised a hand to forestall the answer. " _What_ are you?"

"I am an angel," the archangel said, not at all surprised when he was gifted with an incredibly skeptical look. "And you may call me Michael."

"As in the archangel?" the man asked, letting out a gruff bark of laughter. "Right. How's that going for you?"

"Right now?" Michael shot back. "Not incredibly well seeing that I seem to be avoiding my duties and the vast majority of my siblings." That earned him another bark of laughter.

"So if you really are an archangel, and I'm not sayin' I believe you, why are you with the boys?" the old hunter asked.

"They're not John Winchester's boys," Michael admitted. "They're mine."

"Then why does John have them?" Bobby asked, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Because they are Mary's," the archangel told the man. "And John thinks they're his."

"And how exactly did this happen?" 

Michael considered the question, opened his mouth to answer, shut it, and went back to thinking. That was when one of the boards by the kitchen door creaked and Michael turned to see Sam there rubbing his eyes. Unsurprisingly, Dean was right behind him looking no more awake. "Sam?" the archangel questioned but the young boy just shook his head, making a sleepy, distressed sound. Michael knelt and pulled the boy close, holding him as Sam shuddered and sobbed softly into his shoulder. He didn't ask what was going on; the little boy too distressed to speak yet. He finally calmed down some, breath hitching wetly in the archangel's ear. His fingers clung tight to the fabric of Michael's worn grey shirt, as if that would keep the archangel from leaving. "What's wrong?" Michael asked gently.

"There was fire," Sam whimpered wetly. "Fire and she was burning and he was smiling like it was Christmas." The last word was a broken wail and the archangel found himself thanking his father that John Winchester had dumped the boys here before heading off on a hunt. They'd been at Singer Salvage for two days, the first day had been Bobby studying the Winchesters. The second had involved the man sending John off on a hunt while he rustled up the information that man wanted.If John would have been around he definitely would have been roused by Sam's renewed sobs.

Michael had no doubt about whom Sam was dreaming; Azazel, the fallen angel turned demon who had murdered Mary and infected Sam. The demon was apparently haunting his youngest son's dreams. That made the archangel furious and worried in equal measures. "It's okay," he reassured the panicked boy, wrapping his grace around his son. "You're safe. He can't get you." Sam calmed slowly, hiccuping into his shoulder. Dean stood in the doorway, awkward and worried, until Michael beckoned him forward. Then the older boy scrambled over and cuddled up next to his brother. The archangel soothed them both into sleep, scooping them up carefully. He glanced over his shoulder at the grizzled hunter, who was watching the entire scene with a soft expression on his face, and then headed for the stairs. He was unsurprised when the man followed him and watched as he tucked the boys into bed.

"I was worried when John brought those boys in," Bobby said softly. "He doesn't seem the type of man to know what to do with children. But after seeing you with them? I think they'll be okay."

"Thank you," Michael replied, feeling uncharacteristically touched. The hunter nodded and then turned and headed for the stairs. Michael stopped him with a soft demand, "Mr. Singer."

"Bobby please," the man said. "Mr. Singer makes me feel older than I would like." 

Michael's lips quirked up in a quick smile and he nodded once in acknowledgement before sobering. "You can't tell the boys that I'm their father."

"They don't know?"

"I haven't told them yet," the archangel admitted. "I don't know how."

Bobby hesitated for a moment and then sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll keep your secret, on two conditions."

For a moment Michael felt a wave of righteous indignation. He was an archangel and this was a _human_ setting down conditions. Then the reasonable part of his mind reminded him that he had procreated with a human woman twice and created two Nephilim. Furthermore he was hiding out from Heaven and hiding both Nephilim from their wrath despite his father's views on them. He wasn't really in a position to scorn this man. "What are they?" he asked at last.

"One is that you tell the boys sometime soon because if they found out on their own a feeling of betrayal may be the smallest problem you have to deal with."

"Fine," Michael agreed easily. He was going to have to tell the boys the truth sooner or later and sooner would probably be better.

"And second, sometime you explain to me how all this happened," the man said with a grin. "At least the bare bones because I'm not going to be able to help those boys without knowing a little history."

"Deal," the archangel agreed. The man nodded and then headed down the stairs, leaving Michael alone to guard his boys.


End file.
